Corruption
by voice of morgoth
Summary: Well, here it is. The most fucked up story I've ever written. Part 1 of 4, actually. This will be a Timmy x Vicky fic. But it is in no way romantic. It is in no way a happy ending. In fact, I don't even know why I wrote it. Warnings: Physical abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse. If you think it can't be as bad as the summary, you're wrong.


Timmy retreats to his room again. Vicky throws a knife in his general direction, hitting and bouncing off the door. She had often thrown knives at him when he was annoying her. He was crying over his recent rejection by Trixie Tang. This time, her friend Remy humiliated Timmy in front of the entire school. Timmy jumped hopefully and giddily as he read the apparent love note left by Trixie. Yet as he ran towards the front, Remy was standing there with a megaphone.

"It's the pink freak! Hi!" Remy shouted through the megaphone. The school awkwardly laughed along.

Timmy hides in his room, locking the door to keep Vicky out. He shields himself under the blankets. Vicky usually stayed to herself once he was hiding. He hears the door handle twist and turn, hearing the fiddling on the other side. He curls up, retreating deeper into his hole. He hears Vicky's footsteps echo away. She returns moments later, using the small key to unlock the door. Timmy shakes, hiding under the bed from the eighteen year old redhead. He sees her pink eyes flash menacingly in the dark, a crooked smile forming on her face as she walks in. Vicky takes a seat on the bed, slowly pulling the covers off of the pink clothed boy.

"Hello twerp. Get ditched by your girlfriend?"

The glower shot her way shows her the truth. She giggles while inching closer, delicately running her fingernail along the edge of Timmy's skin.

"I bet you dreamed of her touching you like this… bet your dreams are starting to get different now."

Timmy inches away. Vicky's smile morphs into a frown. She digs the nail into his skin.

"Ow!" Timmy yells.

"Shut up."

Timmy goes silent, feeling Vicky's touch move up and down his arm and leg. She leans in close, looking into his eyes. He swallows, staring into her pink irises. He looks down for a second, looking between her shirt and seeing the angles of her breasts. Rounded and firm, perfect. Vicky moves back, laughing and pointing at Timmy as he pushes against the bed board.

"Hah! You're funny, twerp. Such a pathetic perv. I'll see you around."

Vicky leaves the broken child, curling up and shuddering in pain and fear. His parents return later in the day. He looks desperately to them them as he comes down the stairs, wondering if he should tell them about Vicky's deranged behavior. But he knows that nothing he says will work. He sighs, looking down the stairs as his parents wave goodbye to Vicky after indulging her with another wad of cash.

The next day he returns home, meeting the redhead at the door. He tries to move away from her, but she pulls him back.

"So, how was school?" she asks in an overly sweetened voice. Receiving no answer, she frowns, taking out one of her knives and pressing it against Timmy's cheek.

"How. was. school?"

"It… it was fine."

"Good. Glad your stupid brain is learning something of value."

Vicky giggles while moving away and heading for the couch. She lies down, turning on the television and watching Timmy move upstairs.

"Get back here, twerp."

Timmy swallows, shaking slightly as he steps slowly down the stairs. He approaches the couch, feeling exposed to Vicky's vileness. She smirks while stretching out, covering the couch.

"Where… where do I sit?"

"Where all pets sit. On the floor."

Timmy sits down as Vicky slouches lazily. She pushes the top of his head down to the floor. He doesn't fight, knowing that Vicky would hurt him more. She begins petting along his body, rubbing him affectionately. Her hand inches close to his pants before moving away. She seems to be giving him a belly rub, delicately massaging his skin. And then she gouges into his arm, eliciting a yelp of pain. He backs away towards the television.

"Get back here, dog."

"N…no."

Vicky snarls, standing up from the couch and grabbing Timmy's head, pulling him to meet her eyes.

"I don't like pets who talk back… especially stupid ones. No one else ever gave a damn about you, twerp."

Timmy turns his eyes away. For his slight, Vicky slaps him hard across the face. He backs away, cowering and sniveling as his pale cheek turns red. Vicky retrieves her knife, taking it up to his eyes.

"Get back here, now."

Timmy obeys Vicky's orders, attempting to stand. She forces him back to the ground, making him crawl along the floor to the couch. She sits back down, dangling the knife in one hand and touching Timmy's arms with her other. She occasionally scratches his arm, poking and tearing lightly into the skin. Timmy surrenders to Vicky's evil. She hides the knife in her pocket once the Turners' car pulls back up. She lifts Timmy off the floor and sets him on the couch, smiling warmly as the Turners come back.

"I see you two are getting along." Timmy's dad says with a smile.

"Oh, you bet, Mr. Turner! Timmy and I are becoming the best of friends!"

Timmy's stomach gurgles and bubbles as his face turns pale. He's on the verge of tears seeing his parents indulge his tormenter. He nearly tells on Vicky when she sets her hand by her pocket, preparing the knife should he confess. Timmy goes silent, muttering to his parents as he flees up the stairs. He curls under his bed, terrified and sobbing weakly.

With the coming week, Vicky continues to loom over Timmy. She begins driving him home after school, gazing down at him and rubbing his shoulders in the car. He looks towards his home as if it were a prison. Vicky forces him out of the car and down the path, all but throwing him inside. He moves back, pressing his back against the wall as Vicky rubs a finger under his chin.

"Clean the dishes, then we watch television."

Timmy nods before hurrying to the kitchen. Yet he delays his dish washing, hoping to stall so he won't need to sit near Vicky. The red haired babysitter realizes his ploy and moves into the kitchen. She growls angrily, picking up a plate and throwing it against the ground. He cowers away as she breathes through her nose like a mad bull.

"Clean that up, twerp. And don't think I won't know if you try to stall!"

Vicky stomps away, leaving Timmy alone in the kitchen. He hurriedly sweeps the broken plate up and finishes washing the dishes. Vicky comes back to retrieve him. He walks with her to the couch, again being forced to endure her gentle torment. To feel her loving hands circle around his skin. Once his parents return, Vicky stands up to greet them again.

"I'm so, so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Turner… but Timmy broke a plate."

"What? Is this true, Timmy?" Mrs. Turner says.

"Ye…yes…" he mumbles.

"Don't worry, Timmy! Your adorable, precious babysitter forgives you… but I think we should… perhaps come over to my house more often." Vicky says.

Timmy shudders, looking up with pleading eyes as Vicky smiles sadistically. She licks her lips, switching instantly back to the role of concerned babysitter once Timmy's parents turn back to her. Timmy retreats to his room, hoping against everything that Vicky won't go through with taking him to her house. But the next day, she turns away from the normal route. Timmy watches as Vicky takes him away, driving up to her home. Her parents are already gone, having fled the day before during one of Vicky's violent outbursts. She takes Timmy into the abandoned house, locking them inside.

"Twerp, the bathroom needs cleaning. Do it."

Timmy runs up the stairs to the bathroom, not wishing to wait for Vicky to hurt him again. He sees a bucket of soap water and a small tooth brush waiting for use. He realizes that its Tootie's toothbrush, left alone on the dirty floor. Timmy gulps as Vicky opens the door. She walks in and sits on the toilet, crossing her legs and folding her arms.

"Start."

"It's… Tootie's."

"Don't tell me you're starting to care about the little loser! Ha! That's a good one!"

Timmy picks the brush up, looking guiltily at it.

"Twerp, scrub or I'll cut off something important."

Timmy puts Tootie's toothbrush to the floor. Over the next two hours he scrubs the entire bathroom. Vicky watches him like a hawk, savoring every minute of his suffering. She only leaves once to scare Tootie away from the house, returning moments later to make sure Timmy is still obeying her orders. Her legs are crossed and her face is blushing slightly. Yet the insane smile remains. Timmy finishes his work and Vicky takes him to back to his house.

"Don't pretend you like Tootie, twerp."

"She's… she's a friend."

"That's funny. She only wants to kiss you. She isn't your friend, twerp. But she doesn't get you like I do."

Timmy looks towards her, taken aback by her declaration.

"She's my… friend."

"Oh yes, and I suppose your friends like to join and make fun of you?... of course a pathetic shit like you would choose baldy and shit-for-brains as his friends."

"S-stop."

Vicky stops in the middle of the street, receiving a barrage of honking.

"Alright. I stopped. Now get out."

"Bu.. but."

"Get out!"

Timmy leaves the car, taking his backpack and running away. He flees to his home, looking through the windows at his negligent parents. They open the door, greeting him with the same false smile they always have.

"Son, Vicky said you wanted to leave early. We're happy you're trying to be more independent, but you're still too young. Next time let Vicky take you home."

"Yes… I'm sorry."

Timmy charges up the stairs, his heart hammering in his chest as he breaks into tears. He hugs his pillow, squeezing tight as his tears soak the covering.

The following day, Timmy sees Vicky waiting for him like before. He opens the door and slides in, holding back his emotions. He shudders as Vicky holds him close.

"You shouldn't make me angry twerp. I don't like it when you talk back."

"I'm sorry." Timmy mutters, hoping to sedate the violence within Vicky.

"Good boy. Now, let's go back home."

"Your home?"

"Don't talk back."

Timmy goes silent, yet Vicky keeps him close to her, holding him affectionately. He shivers slightly, falling into the side of the vixen. He takes a deep breath. Her smell is sweet and delicate, not at all like her personality. He feels a twitch in his pants and instantly regrets it, pulling back and squirming. He feels revulsion at his mind's dark games. Vicky giggles, sensing his confused state.

"You're funny. I think I'll keep you."

Vicky drives over to her house. This time she drags him up to her room. He shakes in terror as she forces him inside. He looks around the room. The walls, once a sweet pink color, have been defaced with streams of paint and posters of skulls and dead bodies.

Vicky grabs Timmy's hand. She crushes his wrist as she throws him onto the bed, smiling as she curls up with him. He grabs his hand, attempting to relieve the pain shooting up his arm.

"So twerp. I want to watch a movie. Get me that Bloodthirst on the shelf."

Timmy moves off the bed, walking to the shelf. He slides the movie out and places it in the DVD. Vicky turns on the television as she pulls Timmy into her embrace, forcing him relax between her breasts. Vicky looks down, knowing his penis has twitched again. Timmy is forced to lie with her as they watch the film. She makes him put on several more movies, wasting away the hours.

"So Twerp, your parents said I could watch you over the weekend. It helps my schedule."

Timmy's face remains blank, not revealing the sense of dread beneath. Vicky switches the television off. She delicately brushes her hands down his arms. But this time she goes farther. She slides her hands up his shirt, lifting it off over his head. He covers his body ashamedly.

"Move your hands, twerp."

Timmy obeys, letting her look over his body. She slides her nails up and down his chest, tickling his nipples. She pinches his right nipple. A pained shudder escapes Timmy's lips. She turns him around, looking over his back. Pale, creamy, smooth. She hungers to change the texture of his body. To make him her own vision of perfection. Timmy's eyes squeeze shut, ready for the pain he knows will come. She gouges her nails into his back, watching him shake and cringe. She shudders with pleasure at the low yelp that escapes his lips. She begins marking up his back, creating slow bleeding wounds all over his shoulder blades.

"Don't worry twerp. I've seen the way you look at me."

"No…"

"Don't lie. You like me because I get you."

"I… I like Trixie."

"No… you like to hurt yourself… that's what it's about. You like to suffer. That's the only reason you'd go for someone like her. Unattainable."

Vicky rubs her finger over his scratches as he shakes and cries. Her venomous words sink in deep as she smells his hair, rubbing his shoulders and forcing him to the bed.

"Now, your parents agreed to let me keep you here for the weekend… where does the dog sleep?"

"The… the floor…"

"No, stupid. The foot of the bed."

Timmy moves over, forced to lie at Vicky's feet as she rests them on his stomach. Vicky falls asleep, leaving Timmy staring at the ceiling as his back slowly bleeds onto the bed. He falls asleep long after Vicky. He dreams of more peaceful days before Vicky turned his life into hell. Days he shared with his friends and family before they began drifting away. He sleeps peacefully, trembling slightly from the cold.

"Wake up, twerp!"

Timmy jolts awake, looking around the room as he remembers the current insanity he has been dragged into. Vicky throws Timmy's shirt in his face. Once he's dressed she drags him off the bed and takes him down the stairs, forcing him to make breakfast. He looks through several cookbooks dropped at his feet by Vicky, stumbling through for anything to help. He throws together a poorly cooked omelet and pieces of burnt toast. He looks over the food as Vicky forces him to eat it.

"You suck at cooking. Guess that's just another thing added to the pile of things you suck at."

Timmy remains silent as he finishes his burnt food. Over the next week, Vicky continues to torture Timmy in secret. An abnormal, alien love only a sadist and monster like her can give. She scratches and chokes him for pleasure, and when he disobeys she slaps or kicks him. Timmy begins to lose his appetite. He becomes thinner, looking towards the food on his plate with disgust and irritation. He sees his friends, oblivious of the greater madness harming him. They joke and shout and play like nothing is wrong in their lives.

"At least their safe." he mutters as he walks out of the school, seeing Vicky waiting for him. He moves into the car. Within the month of his treatment, he becomes calm in the car ride. A strange peacefulness, despite his fear of her and the jail she keeps him in.

"So twerp… I'll make you a deal."

"What?"

"I'll stop looking after Chester and A.J. But… you don't go out with them again."

"… why?"

"These are my terms."

Timmy looks towards his friends, oblivious and ignorant. He smiles sadly, knowing they won't have to deal with Vicky anymore. Knowing that she won't hurt them like she hurts him. He turns back and nods.

"Good boy."

Vicky cackles while driving back to her home. Over the next month, Timmy cuts himself off from his friends. A.J. and Chester continue to try and speak with him, but he ignores every attempt to retrieve him from his shell. Vicky's forced her parents and Tootie into a small apartment on the other side of town, keeping the home for herself and Timmy. She kisses and cuts him. She massages and punches him. She forces him to endure her mixture of pain and pleasure. Once she's certain she's broken him enough, she prepares to go further than before. She forces him onto the bed, smiling as he removes his shirt at her command. He stretches as he reveals his scars. Long gouges and little scratches cover his back. She leans in, poking and probing at his body while listening to his small yelps and watching him shake. She moves in, placing delicate kisses over his chest.

"Twerp… my pet… I want to hear you say it."

"Ye-yes… I'm your pet."

Vicky turns him around, looking towards the scars lining his back that she has left. She kisses the marks, eliciting tremors from Timmy's body. She tenderly kisses each wound, holding him protectively as she does. She sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Timmy, get off the bed."

Timmy obeys Vicky's command. He sits before her, exposed and at her mercy. She removes her shoes. She then slides her socks off, exposing her bare feet. She wiggles her toes as she presses against him. She slides her feet down his body, rubbing and pushing against his chest. Her foot moves lower, pressing against his waist.

"Pull your underwear down."

Timmy shivers as he unbuttons his pants. He slowly exposes himself, yet he hides his privates behind his hands. Vicky kicks him in the chest for his transgression. He falls to the floor, grabbing his ribs in pain.

"I didn't say cover yourself."

Timmy moves back up, letting his hands fall to the side. Vicky smiles as she presses her foot against his penis, massaging his testicles and shaft. She pulls at his foreskin with her big toe, tickling him. Against every sane thought he lets out a small moan. He seems to instantly regret it, shrinking back as tears form in his eyes. Vicky continues poking and prodding. His member continues twitching as it grows at Vicky's touch. His body moves against his thoughts, seeming to enjoy the touch of another despite it being her. She continues toying with him long into the night, touching and savoring his body. She squeezes his testicles, chokes his penis, and as quickly as she becomes vicious her touch returns to the delicate, soft warmth of love.

"Get in the bed, twerp."

Timmy climbs into bed with her. She removes her shirt, allowing Timmy to lie down between her breasts. The scent of her perfume combines with her body's sweat, sending his mind over the edge. She continues toying with him, driving out dry orgasms and continuing to pleasure him. Far after his usual bed time she lets go. He goes by her feet again. She rests the heel of her foot on his flaccid penis while another foot rests on his chest. Timmy lies awake through the night, staying still to avoid waking and angering Vicky. He looks towards her. Her sleeping face doesn't betray her vile nature. She appears blissful and peaceful, snoring slightly as she rolls over.

Timmy begins shivering late in the night. He wonders if he should call the police. If they would even listen to him. But Vicky already showed him how little anyone cares for him. How his friends had forgotten him, how his parents ignore him, how even Tootie doesn't seem to care for him. How she only ever seemed to hang out to try and kiss and play with him.

Timmy falls asleep once the sun begins to rise. Vicky wakes up minutes later. She forces him to wake back up.

"Get up and make breakfast, twerp."

"I'm… I'm so tired."

Vicky readies a hand to slap him. He cringes, pulling back. Vicky simply places a thumb under his chin and lifts his head up. She grins menacingly.

"You're my pet. Now make me food so I can go make some money."

Timmy nods frightfully. He hurries down the stairs, looking over the cookbooks. This time the eggs are properly poached and the toast is on the proper setting. He butters the toast and places strawberry jelly over it, handing the plate to Vicky. She swallows the food greedily, savoring every bite.

"It wasn't shit. I guess you can do something good."

Timmy nods, seemingly thankful for her compliment. Once Vicky's forced him to do every chore, she lets him sleep on the couch with his head on her lap.

Over the next week he cuts himself off from everyone in school, severing all ties to his social life. He knows how angry Vicky can be. He knows what she might do if someone found out. He's learned that her threats were never idle. Tootie confronts him outside after school, dragging him back from Vicky's car. His eyes are dark and sunken in. His posture is slouched over and he seems to bare a blank face every day.

"Hey." Tootie says.

"I need to go."

"Timmy… don't."

"No… just… I'm fine. Bye Tootie."

Timmy walks away, joining Vicky in her car. He feels her pull him into her grasp. He shudders in pain, yet relieved that she isn't harming anyone else. She drives him back to her home, opening the door and letting him walk in. She takes him up the stairs and locks the pair in her room. This day she begins stripping down with him. Timmy watches her remove her bra, revealing her bright red nipples. She giggles while watching his member twitch in his underwear. He strips down completely, going through the motions mechanically and soullessly. Vicky pulls her panties down, revealing her moistened vagina.

"I want you to kiss me, twerp."

Vicky smiles as he walks up, ready for her to kneel for the kiss.

"No, twerp… I want you to kiss me here." she says, pointing towards her clit. Timmy moves in. He places his face to her vagina, kissing her.

"Use your tongue. Put it in and lick."

Timmy obeys, sticking his tongue between her folds and licking her body. He loses all higher thought as he sucks and kisses Vicky's body. His tongue rolls around her nub and through her lips. She shakes with an orgasm as she digs her nails into his shoulder blades. She rubs the wounds, taking her fingers to her lips and tasting his blood. She bends him over on the bed, kissing his body and wounds as she nears his penis. She sucks his testicles into her mouth, slurping and licking as his penis twitches and bobs against her chin. Timmy's mind has nearly faded completely. He has given himself to her. She lets go and turns him over, sucking in his penis and licking it. She releases her hold and laughs at his expression. She lifts him further onto the bed, looking over his shivering, naked body.

"You… are a lovely pet, my twerp."

She gets on the bed with him, crouching over his small penis.

"Now… your size ain't much… not yet, anyways. But you've been a good dog these past few days… so this is your reward."

Timmy watches as she grabs his penis, guiding it towards her vagina. He watches as she takes his virginity, enfolding him within her warm body. She moves up and down as he moans and grunts. She hunches over him, allowing her breasts to tickle his face. Her entire being encases him within, shutting him away from the world. He closes his eyes. She continues moving, giggling as he squirms and jolts. She moves away, watching his penis twitch after his orgasm.

Timmy is forced back to the foot of the bed, lying on his back as Vicky goes to sleep. She rests her feet on his crotch, teasing him again. Timmy's face is blank, his will to fight ruined. He thinks to his old friends and his family. He looks towards Vicky, wondering if he should expose her. But he comes to believe that only she cares for him. He swallows, falling into the depths of her web of lies. She's the one he sees as his only companion. The only one who shows him any affection is her. The one who tortures and jabs him. Who scars and scratches him. Who slaps and punches him. As the cold air begins to make him shiver, Timmy moves silently up to the bed. He holds close to Vicky, watching her sleep peacefully. Sometime in the night she takes him into her embrace. Timmy relaxes, sleeping soundly for the first time in months.

"_She... she loves me... i realize now... __Only… only she understands… only her."_

Timmy awakens with a sudden fright. He finds himself on the floor as Vicky stands up, scowling at him. He backs away, cringing and preparing for her to beat him senseless. She simply tosses him his clothes and stomps out of the room.

"Get dressed, twerp."

Timmy hurriedly puts his clothes on. He leaves the room and receives a kick from Vicky. She drags him by his shirt and tosses him outside. She slams the door in his face, leaving him alone. Timmy walks down the street, heading for his house. He stumbles through the door, not acknowledging his family's inquires about his behavior or why he isn't with Vicky. He sees the remnants of a party, realizing that while he was Vicky's slave his parents were celebrating. Timmy retreats to his room and cries.

"Only… only she cares… and I screwed up…"

Timmy returns to school the next day, shifting through his classes in a daze and not paying attention to the teachers. He doesn't answer anyone's pleas or attempts to penetrate his shell. He doesn't respond as Tootie walks over, trying to goad a response out of him. Timmy approaches the row of cars. What's left of his heart falters and cracks. He stumbles to the sidewalk, lurching and gulping. Spittle and stomach acid fall past his lips, dripping onto the sidewalk.

"Vi… Vicky…"

Her car isn't there. Timmy gathers what's left of his resolve and moves towards the row of buses. He moves onto the bus, looking past A.J. and Chester and sitting in the back, away from everyone.

With the passing week, Timmy's friends try to recover him. He begins opening up slightly. Even Trixie, in secret, begins trying to help him.

"So Timmy… you like comics… right?" Trixie says in the hallways away from her peers.

"Yeah…"

"Well… do you… want to read my Crimson Chin together?"

Timmy nods. She looks around before revealing her issue of the comic. Timmy and her find a small area where they read through the issue.

"So Timmy… are you… alright?"

"I'm… fine."

His voice betrays the truth, seeming to be dull and lifeless. He's a puppet bereft of happiness. He looks up, meeting Trixie's blue, heavenly eyes. Trixie as she gives him a worried hug.

"It… it'll be okay, Timmy."

"I… okay." Timmy mutters.

At the end of the day he looks over the row of cars, seeing Vicky missing again. Timmy doesn't even glance at his parents as they begin bickering again. He walks into his room, throwing the math book on the desk and glancing over it. He yawns before moving into his bed, losing interest in his school work.

The next day, Timmy joins with Trixie in the halls.

"So Timmy, did you see the new Crimson Chin movie?"

"Not yet. Parents won't take me."

"You want to go together? I can have Gerard pick you up at six."

"Alright."

Trixie smiles warmly, looking around before moving in and kissing Timmy on the cheek. He smiles in return, yet once she turns away he drops the façade. He walks to the bus at the end of the school day, meeting Tootie.

"Timmy… anything new?"

"No… nothing."

"Vicky's still holding the house."

"What about the money?"

"Mom and Dad keep paying it… they're scared… are… are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes I'm fine."

"What… what did she… do to you?"

"Nothing."

Timmy ignores her as he walks up the steps of the bus. He returns to the back, ignoring the inane blabber of his peers as he waits for the bus to drop him off. Hours later, he waits outside his home for Trixie to pick him up. He sees the black sedan approach, driven by Trixie's personal escort. Timmy hops in the back, looking over Trixie. His eyes are corrupted and perverted. He looks over her pale skin, her raven hair, her budding breasts.

"So, how's your day, Timmy?"

"It's good."

"Looking forward to the movie?"

"Yeah… thank you."

Trixie smiles, hoping she can help him out of his depression. The two unlikely friends wander into the movie theater, escorted by Trixie's driver. Timmy loses himself in the movie, laughing and giggling along to Trixie. He barely pays attention as Trixie threads her fingers with his hand. The movie ends with the Crimson Chin standing triumphantly atop a skyscraper. Trixie laughs heartily as the two come out of the theater. They wait outside for their driver to finish using the bathroom.

"So, what was your favorite part, Timmy?"

"I… I liked the battle in the middle best."

"Yeah. That was awesome."

Trixie fist bumps ecstatically. Timmy giggles, smiling along with her. He moves in closer, feeling the remnant of a long lost desire. He presses his lips against hers. Their lips fit together perfectly. Her kiss is tender and hesitant. Hers is unlike Vicky's forceful, almost slobbering nature that encompasses his entire mouth. He feels a heat rise in his chest. He looks towards her, heart racing, and smiling.

"Do you… want to keep going? We'll… go back to my house?" Timmy asks.

"I… how?"

"I… do you know… never mind."

Timmy shakes his head, realizing that Trixie isn't like him. That she hasn't stayed up late in the night, thinking of ways to pleasure another body. Timmy moves away, seeing that Trixie is innocent. He swallows, looking down with pain and knowing that his sick mind is still focused on Vicky. That what he told him he's come to believe. That her pain is love. That her hurt is kindness. That her vileness is gentle and to be welcomed. That his body belongs to hers and hers alone.

"I'm… I'm sorry… we shouldn't hang out anymore." Timmy says, looking away.

"Wh… what?"

"It's… its best… I'm… I'm not normal."

"I… shit…"

Trixie looks down, shamed at Timmy's rejection. He allows Gerard to drive him home as Trixie cries silently in the back, wondering what she did wrong. He returns to his room, locking the door as his parents argue again. He buries his head in the pillow and screams. He shouts and yells into the pillow until his voice is hoarse. He flips over, staring at the ceiling with a pained cough and bloodshot eyes.

He stays up long into the night, simmering in his own anger and despair. Once his parents begin moving around, he prepares to get up. He gathers his books and rubs his tired eyes.

"Timmy, how's it going?" his mother asks with a false smile.

"I'm fine." he mutters, unable to hide his own pain.

Timmy goes back on the school bus after breakfast. He hears whispering on the bus as two kids look towards him, snickering. He walks past the whispered gossiping about his break up with Trixie.

"So, you finally get your girl and dump her."

Timmy shifts over, looking through the window and ignoring the insults and giggling about his bizarre nature. He wonders how much Trixie told her friends. If they know about his corrupted urges. If they know how he feels the need to be harmed and to touch her body.

"_Who… who cares…"_

Timmy shivers as he looks towards the passing houses. Vicky's house moves past his view. Several other students shudder in terror as they see the insane babysitter's home. Yet Timmy sighs, seeing the only one who cared for him slip from view. He swallows and moves to the front of the bus as the doors open.

"_I… I can't be without her... she knows me."_

Timmy rushes past the other kid stepping onto the bus, ignoring the shouts of the bus driver as he runs down the block. He finds himself in the last place he thought he'd want to return. He steps forward, marching with a heavy weight in his step. He approaches the door, tears forming in his eyes, and knocks. He presses his head against the door.

"Why… why am I here?"

Timmy is sent off balance by the door flinging open. He weakly stands, looking towards his oppressor as she frowns at him.

"The hell do you want, twerp?"

"I… I…"

"Speak up, stupid. I don't have all day. I've got to meet with my boyfriend."

"Your…"

Timmy falls to his knees. A choked sob releases from his lips, coming out like a high-pitched squeal. He crawls forward like a dog with a limp, looking towards Vicky's leg. She kicks him back, yet he comes forward again. She kicks him even harder. He grabs his stomach as tears form in his eyes. He moves back up and looks up to Vicky, begging with his eyes.

"Please… I… I want to… be your pet."

Vicky's frown becomes a dark smile. She crouches down, delicately running a finger under his chin.

"Say it again."

"I want to be your pet."

"A little louder."

"I want to be your pet! Vicky, I want to be your pet!"

Vicky chuckles, moving aside to make room for her willing slave. He crawls in, yet Vicky picks him up. She drags him forcefully up the staircase to her room. She throws him onto the bed. She moves in close, pressing her lips to his. She forces her tongue through his lips, licking deep into his throat. She moves away as he stares breathlessly into her eyes.

"I think I'll keep you, Timmy."

"Please… I… I love…"

"Shut up and sit down."

Vicky smiles, pulling Timmy into her embrace. The broken slave rests his head between Vicky's breasts, falling into his role as her slave. She begins pulling his pants and underwear down. She fondles and touches him as he loses all sense of self-worth.

"_It's better this way… she gives me… what I need."_

Timmy closes his eyes, submitting to Vicky's sadistic desires. With his role as her pet, he feels a small twinge of happiness. The value he only feels with her.

"I love you, my pet twerp."

"I… I love you."

"Call me master."

"I love you… master."

"Good boy."

Timmy shudders, the last piece of sanity and normalcy vanishing with her warm touch. Timmy relaxes as his old self finishes dying, submitting to Vicky's indomitable nature.


End file.
